Daily Archives: 24/01/2019

I had this photo in my archive from last June but had no idea what it was, so I had a look in my Plant Snap App and found it to be an Edelweiss. I must have taken a close up and was not accustomed to the details.

This is the Nictumgasslein in Solothurn. Gasslein is an alley but I have not been able to find a translation of Nictum and assume that it is very old, perhaps in connection with connection. It leads from the cathedral to the river.

“Just wondering. You cannot just perch in the middle without being allotted to your proper place.We have a range order here.”

“Where I come from we just take over where we land. We do not bother about discussions and now this is my place.”

“Who says so?”

“I do. No discussion, otherwise I will shut down the perch and you can all go. See how you like it having to move to another place and search for your food.”

“We don’t do things like that here. We have organisation so move your beak to somewhere else. Go find another wall to perch on. No room for bossy gulls here who think they can push there way into the line and take over. Go sit on the roof with the pigeons.”

“You have pigeons?”

“Loads of them.”

“OK I will go and organise them, don’t want any pigeons here. We should construct a wall to keep them out.”

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Being a kid of the East End of London, in the dock area, I was not exactly spoilt for beautiful landscapes and cleanliness. There had been a five year war raging from 1939-1945 and scars were left everywhere. Not only on the surroundings but also on the people, although vagrants can be found in every country. They tend to collect together on waste land or dark streets.

This photo was taken in Spitalfields market in London, on a visit I made in 1989, 30 years ago (I was once 42 years old?). No. 2 son on the right of me and my No. 1 son on the extreme right. Why Spitalfields? It no longer exists. It was an early morning fruit and vegetable market, beginning at 5 in the morning and ending and as I arrived at my grammar school (high school) around 900.am. My school was on the right of the picture, now removed to be replaced by a new Sptalfields market area modernised with shops and market place, naturally cleaned and swept for the tourist arrivals daily.

During the day he area was left to the feral animals to enjoy the left overs, mainly cats and dogs and perhaps a few rats, although we never saw them. We were dressed in our neat uniforms enclosed in the walls of the school playground, but there were also the human vagrants.

There was a small park nearby, if you could call it a park: a stretch of grass littered with empty bottles and other trash and there were the vagrants: the drinkers of the methylated spirits because they had no money for anything better. During the day the park would be littered with their bodies, sleeping away the nocturnal drinking sessions. Mum and dad said to avoid those places, but it was part of my growing up impressions. Every civilisation has their things they like to hide I suppose and this would have been one of them. In the evenings they would huddle around a self made fire, disposing of the daily street trash (recycling?) somewhere in the park and drink their bottles empty, left on the grass afterwards. One of the parts of London that the tourists did not see. Today these places no longer exist, but they have their history. It was also the area where the London Jack The Ripper, killed his prostitutes, some of them also being victims of the meths.

And the family Angloswiss pose in the middle of this part of London, known to few as it was. I visited the school from 1959-1964, the last days of Spitalfields market.

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It is the usual drab morning here, no cloud or sky action, so I thought I would start the blogging day with a photo from my walk back home along the river yesterday. It seemed to be a day for water reflections so I let my camera make the most of it. This photo was the last one I took as I turned into the path home.

Yes I was again on the way yesterday. I was bored sitting at home and the weather did look like it would brighten up and that only happened to a degree.

It was action day on our estate as today is the day of the paper collection and everyone was busy putting out their bundled offerings. Of course, family Angloswiss also had their contributions which were still resting in the cellar when I left. Mr. Swiss found that was no problem. Our No. 1 son organises it very well and so I left them to it. In Switzerland you cannot just throw out the paper. Newspapers must be tied in bundles with string and cardboard must be kept under control. Do not put out cardboard boxes that held washing powder was one of the instructions on the paper we all get to tell us how. They apparently contaminate the quality of the recycled mass. And so I left Mr. Swiss and No. 1 son to it and departed into town in my wheelchair.

The first thing I see when approaching the Basel gate of the town is our cathedral towering over everything and there even seemed to be a few brave people on the public viewing balcony on the tower. I did it once, but was leaning on the wall most of the time. It is a long way up and I was feeling a bit shaky after climbing the numerous stairs on the way. Today I could no longer do it, so am glad that I can say I did it once.

And this is a shot of my ex gynaecologists villa who delivered my two sons. Yes he had a villa as he belonged to one of those known local dynasties. I must say it was quite impressive to sit in the surgery for consultations with thick expensives carpets and solid wooden bookcases and desk. The doc, now long gone, was a gentleman and even wore a tie when delivering babies although he did roll up his shirt sleeves. His wife was also a lady and a neighbour of ours once in a building where we lived. Her apartment had wonderful paintings hanging on the wall and they also had a second residence somewhere in St. Moritz. The villa has now been taken over by a company and the old surgery has become an office.

Town was quiet and there were not many people around. I am sure that since the days of online shopping have arrive, no-one really bothers to go shopping today. It is all done in front of the computer. The only people you see are dog walkers and golden oldies like myself, or those on their way to the doctors and other specialists. You cannot have a consultation with your consultants online, they want to see you personally.

After two hours on my wheelie I decided I was now cold enough to go home and seek the warmth of four walls. I also noticed a strange scraping noise on my wheelchair but discovered that a twig had lodged itself next to the wheel when I got home, so no big problem.

Today is a day at home and it begins with putting clean linen on the bed. This is a complicated operation since we both are feeling the advancing years, but somehow we manage. In the worst case, we wait for No. 1 son to fit the sheets onto the mattress. It will be an operation of sighs and profanities until we are finished I am sure. As a preliminary I have already removed my duvet covers and now to do the rest.

I hope your day is more restful than mine in that case. Just one more photo of our so-called Wengi Bridge where the trains run and in the background our “wonky” tower, because it seems the architect in the middle ages forgot to consult his plans.

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Women’s March 2017

Originally a cockney from the East End of London. Arrived in Switzerland 46 years ago and due to meeting Mr. Swiss, I am still here. Mother of two sons, have been adopted by 3 cats. Worked 30 years as an export clerk for a Swiss machine tool company and am now retired. Like to go for walks with my camera and write blogs, flash fiction, poems to make life interesting. Speak fluent German/Swiss German, French, Italian and some Russian. Mother tongue: still cockney english.

Freshly Pressed

51 Shades of Blog

Being honest the title is based on a remark made on one of my blogs by a supporter.
"You always turn a topic inside out and on its head" were words also applied by a visitor to one of my blogs. I think she hit the nail on the head.

Prompts are there to act on, not just tell everyone what you had for lunch or your likes and dislikes. I trust that on my blog you find something spiced with humour. Mr. Swiss, my other half, has been known to say that not everyone always understands my humour (I do not always understand his).

Blogging is for me coupled with having fun. I do what I want to and not what I have to.

Disclaimer: Not reponsible for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. I do my best, but having two langugages revolving in my brain (yes, I have one), sometimes the result is more bi- than unilingual.

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